Adult Priced Hair...and ALL the Things to start out 2023

 It's the new year and I/we are trying to get the house in order.

 My days since the kids have been back at school have been consumed by organizational projects and purging items from our over stuffed house. Good Will and I have a reciprocal relationship: I put in my fair share of items for sure; but recently, I've also discovered the wonderful secret of buying my boys' winter coats there. 

You see, for many years I have been frustrated by the cycle of buying them warm, expensive, brand new winter coats... only to have them lose them😖. 

Upset and frustrated when they lose yet another coat, I vow not to but them another (in order to teach them a lesson); however, I then am consumed extreme "Mom guilt" as I watch them exit the car in the morning off to school without one. 

And so the cycle starts again.😞

 I do take comfort in that I'm not the only mom who  deals with the constant lack of responsibility from the kids and their things. Our school's "lost and found" rack is always overflowing with coats and sweatshirts, enough to open up a small store. 

Whenever I go into school, my ritual is to check the rack; and sure enough, I almost always find something from someone. Often times if it is their coat, I will walk it to their classroom and hang it on their hook; I feel like the "coat fairy; what must they think when they go out to recess and they suddenly have their coat hanging by their name tag?!!! .... but I suppose that's what Moms do. 😏Every few months the school gets overwhelmed by the amount of lost and found coats. They give fair warning to the parents that they have limited time to check the rack, otherwise everything will be donated. There are some nice things on that rack, and I had the revelation that the Good Will is getting some pretty nice coats! And that is when the idea hit me: I need to buy my boys' their coats at Good Will. 

Sure enough, as I entered the store, I found beautiful, hardly worn, name brand coats for 90% less than they would cost at full price! And John says, if they lose them at school, we can just go to Good Will and buy them back again! 😂Brilliant! It's truly a win-win situation for everyone, and I will never buy my boys' coats anywhere else ever again. 

They might we irresponsible with their coats, but they are responsible at getting their homework done every night. Evelyn thinks it's unfair that they can do it together....the benefit of being a triplet and in the same class.

Speaking of losing things, we got the dreaded blue envelope in the mail from the Tualatin Library indicating that we have failed to turn in a book, and thus it is considered LOST, resulting in a payment slip. Caleb knows it's his book and his fault. The price is minimal, about $5.00. As he lay in bed last night he said to me, "Don't worry Mom. I'm going to pay that bill. I think I have a tooth somewhere in my backpack that I never turned in to the tooth fairy, so I'll do that sometime this week and then give you the money." 😇

Coat Fairy-Tooth Fairy...Perhaps I'm not teaching my kids about real life; someday will they expect their "tax fairy" too?!?

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Evelyn came to me asking about a haircut. She has this long, thick flowing hair now and so I've been getting it cut at a "real adult salon" for the past two years.  

When I called to make the appointment, they informed me that since she is now 11 years old, she would have to be charged adult prices. Appalled, I told the person on the phone "no thank you," and hung up, determined to find another place to get a child's cut. However, as I called around I soon found out similar situations: child prices stop at age 10. 

And so, I sheepishly called back the salon, (which actually turned out had the most reasonable prices) and remade the appointment. 

When I took her after school, a young, peppy, stylish woman greeted us and swooped Evelyn back to her chair, informing me I could wait "there", pointing to a comfy seat in the waiting room.

 I bid farewell and took my seat, opening my book. It was difficult for me to concentrate on my reading because I could hear this incessant chatter from the chair, which was distracting me. It was indeed my daughter and the stylist talking about life together like they were old friends catching up. 

And it wasn't just a one way conversation. I overhead Evelyn asking questions to the stylist about her life, her child and her career, like a little adult!

 I looked out the window and it was getting dark. 

The time told me we'd been there an hour now. 

I looked back and the blow dryer was going and there was laughter from the two of them. What the heck are they talking about all this time? My curiosity was piqued. 

Another 15 minutes passed. 20. 

I texted John. "can you start dinner? Evelyn is still getting her hair done."

The curling iron came out, and they both had a look in mind that they were trying to create on Evelyn's conditioned, shiny tresses. 

After finally emerging from the chair after a full 1 hour and 30 minutes, her hair was transformed into quite the masterpiece. 

"Your daughter looks gorgeous," I texted to John. 

"I'm not ready to have this conversation." He texted back. 

As I paid the bill, I realized that yes, Evelyn indeed required adult pricing. It was more than appropriate. 

The stylist and Evelyn smiled at each other. "Mom, I've found my stylist. I told her she's going to be my stylist forever as long as I live here," she announced to me proudly.

I don't think she realizes what a true gift it is to find "your stylist" at this age. I'm 40 and still nomadic when it comes to someone cutting my hair. 

"She's just the best!" Evelyn said, beaming. 

The young lady laughed and said, "Well you are my all time favorite client." 

Oh my goodness. I couldn't believe this! There was a BFF bond between my daughter and her stylist. 

"Looking forward to seeing you next time!" The young lady waved at Evelyn as we left. 

"Mom,"  Evelyn said as we got into the car, "her birthday is April 4, so I'm going to get her something and drop it off. I have to write down her birthday so I don't forget."

I looked over at her. "So Evelyn,  your hair looks great.... but what exactly did you like so much about her?" I asked with sincere interest. 

Evelyn looked at me, "She actually talked to me, Mom. She didn't treat me like I was invisible, but she talked to me like a person." 

Wow, that was profound, yet so simple. 

"She treated me like a person."

Yes, Evelyn, you will love being an adult.

Well the school year is flying by and I get a bit panicked when I think about it being just about half way through. John and I have made a commitment to buy less and Do more with our kids. We feel the urgency of soaking in these precious years. 

Evelyn at age 11 is apparently an adult now with adult friendships, and the boys, well, as soon as they stop losing their coats, will be more manly as well. 

One of the gifts we wanted to give our kids was a special experience with their dad. As I wrote about in my last entry, Evelyn and John had a magical time in NYC over Christmas. 

The boys, however, embarked on their "dude experience" with John last weekend at a 49ers game in San Fransisco. 

Waking early on Sunday morning, the guys flew out at 8 am and spent the day cheering on the "good guys," who crushed their opponent (which made the game even more enjoyable). 

My heart smiles when I look at these pictures. 

And I look forward to all this year is going to bring.

 

Unexpected Christmas 2022

 Since Halloween night, James started a family countdown to our Illinois Christmas trip. 

It is a pilgrimage we anticipate and plan for, every other year. 

                              

 A snowy, white Christmas nestled around my parent's fireplace. 

Christmas Day, surrounded by relatives and cookies and gifts. 

Christmas 2022! This was the year! 

There is strategic planning when we do Christmas across the country, with wrapping and transporting  gifts there and back again.... 

There is the task of  animal care, of getting the house secured for the week, and packing bulky winter clothes in suitcases. 

There is a lot of preparation, but it is worth it to see aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents and great grandma. 

We bought our plane tickets early this year, and everyone in Illinois was preparing for and anticipating our visit.  We were proud that we finally planned ahead and bought the tickets when prices were reasonable and seats were open. 

However, a week or so before Christmas, John came to me with a dilemma. Traveling often for work, he realized that he was several thousand miles short of "status" for the upcoming year. Now if you travel, you understand how important it is to achieve this benchmark; it comes with a lot of small comforts and perks that make a huge difference when in the air and in airports. The benefits even trickle down to the family, getting free checked bags and often times upgrades in seating. We both agreed he should try to get his few remaining miles in before the end of the year, somehow, someway. 

One cross continental flight should do it, but the thought of going on a solo trip without purpose wasn't very exciting. Surely there was a way to accrue his miles and use it for something. And then a magnificent idea came to mind: A daddy-daughter "business trip" with Evelyn to celebrate her 11th birthday. 

Evelyn was having trouble figuring out what she wanted to do for her birthday this year. Being so close to Christmas, it's always hard to know what to get her. 

This idea solved three issues: The miles, the celebration and the gift.

Plus is allowed John to share a once in a life time special trip with his only daughter. 

Enamored by the Rockafeller Christmas tree in the movies, John decided to make this dream a reality: New York  City, here they come!

The plan was set. The timing would be tight. With school schedules and other commitments, plus our trip to Chicago, they would leave on Wednesday Dec. 21 and fly back to Portland late on Friday Dec. 23. Meanwhile, I would pack up the house and take care of everything so we could depart for Chicago early on Saturday, December 24. 

The plan started out blissful. I received text after text, and pictures and pictures of John and Evelyn traipsing around NYC, taking in sights such as the Statue of Liberty and Times Square. They even saw the broadway play Wicked. 

And then the weather rolled in. On Friday Dec. 23 I woke up in Portland to a sheet of ice on all the roads and some snow on the ground. 

The boys were estatic as they hauled out their saucer sleds from the garage and spent the day speeding down the ice hills by our house, flipping over curbs and crashing into rocks. The ice certainly entertained them, which was a plus because I was focused on getting everything ready for our departure the next morning.

 

 I dropped off the guinea pigs at the neighbors and I cautiously drove the mile to PetsMart to check in Lucy. But I had an ominous, uneasy feeling as I started getting text messages from several friends wondering about my flight, telling me that flights were totally cancelled at PDX. 

Then I got the phone call from John in NYC. 

Their flight was cancelled coming home. 

Quick thinking put John and Evelyn on a flight Christmas morning directly to Chicago. They would simply meet us there instead of flying back to Portland. This seemed like a great plan, whew!.... but I was still unsettled in  my heart. I wouldn't be relaxed until we were actually on the plane. 

The next morning I woke up at 4:00 am and checked our flight. The streets were slushy now, not icey. And our flight was still on schedule to leave, although delayed an hour. 

Suitcases packed, gifts wrapped, house locked up, we greeted my father- in -law as he came at 5:30 am to pick up the boys and me and take us to the airport. 

Upon arriving, I was not prepared for what I walked into. There were lines of people everywhere and mazes of suitcases. I had two huge suitcases I was pulling, plus my carry on and Evelyn's violin( I promised I bring to Chicago so she could play Christmas carols for the relatives) 

The boys followed close behind me, each pulling their own little suitcase and backpack. I started to sweat as I navigated the airport, squeezing between people and winding around crowds. I felt a little better dropping my suitcases off, getting through security, and making it to my gate. 

I looked outside. It was grey and misty. One loan de-icer made its way around to the lined up planes on the tarmac. 

We boarded. 

Ok, it's a go, I thought. 

We took our seats. The boys turned on their computers as we waited to take off. 

And then the announcement: we were in line to be de-iced and it would take about an hour for our turn. 

So we sat, and waited; but I was grateful we were going.

They counted down. 

Finally, it was our turn; we were number one in line to de ice and take off. One step closer. 

But then a pause. 

A long pause. 

"Folks, the ice is forming faster than we can take care of it. We are going to need to go back to the gate. We will be delayed. We are not sure how long. Feel free to get off the plane." 

The boys were frustrated because we had already been waiting for over two hours on the tarmac. They were hungry and anxious to leave. We took our things and ran to the nearest McDonalds to get some food. The self ordering kiosks gave me trouble as I was already stressed by the lines of hungry people forming behind me. We waited for our food, and waited...and then I got the text: Cancelled. This terrible word. 

I have PTSD about the word CANCELLED>this word still gives me a pit in my stomach after living through those horrible Covid years when so many things ended up this way. 

Cancelled. What to do!? 

Chaos. My ordered food had still not come, but now I felt the panic of needing to go somewhere to figure out what to do next. 

John called me from NYC and being the seasoned, wise traveler, he directed me to run back through security to the front of the airport and wait in the line there to figure out my options. 

 When we got our bag of food and drinks, I told the boys it was "go time" and they needed to jog behind me as we made our way back through the airport. 

 We went as fast as we could, the boys running behind me balancing drink trays and food and violins, through the airport to the entrance and found our place in a line that was already wrapped around the perimeter.

 I didn't know what to do. 

I didn't know what to say. 

John, the expert traveller usually handles all these matters but I was alone, with my three boys.

 I did the only thing I could do, stand in a line. 

The boys made a little pow wow near me and ate their hamburgers. Strangers saved my spot in line so I could take them to the bathroom. People were tired, angry, frustrated, confused.  But there was a camaraderie because everyone was stuck together. 

When I got up to the counter after an hour or two, I learned that there was nothing they could do. All the flights for the day were cancelled with no flights going out to Chicago until the 28th. And John couldn't get home to Portland now until 26th. In an instant, all my holiday plans and hopes were changed. I asked for a refund for my tickets. And after a little tear, I composed myself, turned around and faced my boys to share our new plans. 

We needed to find our bags and go home. 

Their emotions and disappoint was raw. I had to stay strong for them, so I made began to recite all the good things, and explained how "God is in control" and what wonderful, blessed lives we live! 

I explained that Santa would still come tonight, and Lucy would be awfully excited to not have to spend Christmas alone. 

After finding my suitcase, (which I was a bit stressed about considering it had all the Christmas magic wrapped inside of it) my wonderful father in law picked us back up from the airport, and we were dropped off at home again. 

The whole day felt like a dream. 

But I had to keep up the Christmas magic and merriment for my boys. 

We played games, bought a big half-priced chocolate Christmas cake at the store and went on an evening walk looking up in the sky for signs of Santa.

 The boys made an encampment below my bed, insisting that we all sleep in the same room. 

And I did Christmas. 

We had Dominos pizza and watched football. 

I was very aware in these moments that the boys were taking cues from me as to how they should respond to the disappointment and change in Christmas plans.

 If I was frustrated and mad and sad, they would be that way. If I was joyful, grateful and fun, they would be that way. 

James took so many pictures on my phone of evidence of Santa and his reindeers. Here are some foot steps on our deck.

We had the excitement of Christmas morning; John and Evelyn joined us on FaceTime. We had cinnamon rolls and opened games and toys (that had too many parts to figure out and put together alone) 

We went to Walgreens to get batteries and built legos. 

In the afternoon we went to a friend's house for appetizers and wine. In the evening, it was dinner at my in laws. 

The boys were joyful. 

And it was the Christmas that wasn't, but actually Was. 

It was just different than expected. 

And yet this was another lesson in life: we can make our plans and manipulate our life to turn out how we want it to turn out. But ultimately, some things are out of our control and it's the attitude and how you bounce back and carry on that make the difference.

 And it truly all begins with gratefulness. 

John and Evelyn spent Christmas at a Jewish bagel shop and in a hotel by the airport in New York. The boys and I looked for evidence of Santa and were loved by friends and family at home. 

It was a different Christmas, but it was an experience that builds character.

 My kids have a great life, and if this helps them learn disappointment and flexibility, so be it. It certainly won't be the last time their plans will fall through. 

We were all reunited finally late Monday night and the frenzy of wrapping paper  and gifts from the siblings gift exchange brought tears to my eyes. To see my family whole again and to see my children loving each other, there is nothing better.